


Tequila Sunrise

by Chellann_Nicollares



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flirting, M/M, Rhink Summer Ficathon 2k16, Strangers, prompt: sunrise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chellann_Nicollares/pseuds/Chellann_Nicollares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he were to do something reckless, it would be most justifiable on a night like this, where the world outside of the dimly lit bar made him feel a little jaded and forsaken, but the beautiful stranger inside this daydream of a place made him feel just the opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tequila Sunrise

_Should I really be doing this?_

Rhett glanced at the tired, scattered patrons and questioned his choice of locale. The bar and restaurant, sandwiched between an IHOP and a Denny's, was not crowded at all; but it seemed well-maintained enough for one to assume a reasonable popularity during peak hours. The décor was, possibly by design, humble and dated. Simple square tables with the rich tone of mahogany were surrounded by matching chairs and low-back black leather couches with tufted cushions. Simple hanging light fixtures dangled from large trellises painted on the ceiling. Old fashioned sconces were riveted to wallpaper-covered pillars that sectioned off smaller seating areas, while a lit candle was diligently placed on each table. With the comfortable furniture and warm lighting, this would have been a fine establishment anywhere else in the country. But in the prestigious city of Los Angeles, the stylish crowd might have turned away due to the lack of exposed wooden beams, minuscule metal high tables and leggy stools with sharp feet. _It's just interior design_ , Rhett reined in his thoughts, _and not even the most substantial elements of that_. _An engineer's eye should be set on bigger things, buildings, bridges, roads..._ But the thought made him chuckle bitterly. As soon as this day ends, would all that still matter?

His eyes fell on the bar. From a concave in the wall, neat rows of colorful liquor bottles were glistening under blue-tinted LED bulbs, illuminated more brightly than everything else in the place. Rhett couldn't help snickering at the deliberate design, but strode towards them anyway. Tonight, that was what he needed. Soon, he lowered himself onto a generously cushioned bar stool and loosened up his gray tie. His lanky legs comfortably planted on the floor.

“What will it be?”

The voice came so promptly and so gently that Rhett almost jumped from his seat. The bartender seemed to have come from nowhere, yet his confident and relaxed posture suggested no sign of rush. _How did I not notice him?_ Rhett was bewildered. But, given the events of the day, he supposed he could be excused for feeling a little distracted.

But without a doubt, the man in front of him was hard to ignore. He had ebony hair cropped into a stylish undercut—shorn almost to the scalp above his ears, the rest kept long and swept messily to one side. His large glasses gave him a bookish, unassuming look, but they could not conceal his deep-set blue eyes. The color was so pure and bright that they demanded attention. Rhett only allowed himself a fleeting glance at the man's enticing lips, but as it turned out his chiseled jawline was equally distracting. _Must be an actor or model moonlighting here, waiting for a big break_ , Rhett thought. _Damn well could be a star on the rise._

Rhett barely noticed how long he had been staring without answering the simple question. The bartender had set his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, practically flaunting his impressive muscle tone under a painted-on mint green T-shirt.

“Should I get you a menu, maybe?”

“Huh? Oh, I'm sorry...” Rhett scrambled to collect his thoughts.

“No worries. I'll get you one.” The man flashed the most guileless smile, and started to turn away, giving Rhett a view of his trim hips and—

“You know what? Dealer's choice.” Rhett stopped his wandering eyes and tried to muster that charismatic ringing voice that seemed to have saved him from his introverted nature whenever social interaction necessitated.

“I rarely get the honor!” The tenor voice practically chirped. The bartender browsed his collection of glassware behind the counter and selected a simple highball. He deftly lifted it from the inverted stack and set it upright on the glossy black wooden counter. He turned back to Rhett and studied him with those hypnotizing eyes, as if trying to read his patron and prescribe a fitting mixed drink. While doing this he never stopped grinning with only one corner of his mouth. Rhett found his smugness somehow breathtaking.

“You can call me Link by the way,” the brunet declared just as Rhett was starting to wonder how to artfully pose the question. “Short for Lincoln.” He paused confidently, expecting Rhett to offer up his identity.

“I'm Rhett, nice to meet you.”

Link cocked one eyebrow. “Charmed,” he said, with much effort to imitate the transatlantic pronunciation of old Hollywood.

Rhett responded with a confused smile.

“You know, like _Gone with the Wind_?” He explained, turning around to grab a bottle of clear liquor. “Isn't that what they say? Or was it _Casablanca_...Maybe _Roman Holiday_?” He mused to himself, looking into an indeterminate corner of the bar and resting his hand on the bottle neck.

Rhett had no answer. “I think you're right.” He mumbled a polite non-answer, wiping at an imaginary water ring on the counter. He watched Link turn around again and bend towards a concealed fridge.

It must have been obvious where Rhett's gaze was lingering, given how hard Link was trying to hold back a smirk as soon as he turned back and saw him. But thankfully he didn't explicitly tease the engineer, and instead focused on unscrewing the plastic cap of an orange juice carton he took from the fridge. Then, juice in one hand and liquor in the other, he poured both into the glass simultaneously. Rhett had thought Link was putting on a bit of a show when he dramatically turned both vessels upright and swung them towards the ceiling before setting down, until the smirking brunet fitted a metal tumbler tightly over the brim of the glass and started shaking the beverage with both hands. His biceps bulged unapologetically while his eyes and smile were aimed at Rhett with laser focus.

The show continued, and unlocking the metal cup with a twirl wasn't even the end of it. Link's hand disappeared under the counter and returned with a pitch-black decanter that could very well have held some mysterious tincture of an 18th century physician. He must have noticed the intrigue in Rhett's eyes as he shot him a cunning glance. Then, with a swift tilt he injected a stream of viscous red into the orange mixture. The red color swirled and pooled on the bottom of the glass and artfully faded into the orange above. As his finale, the bartender picked up a pair of small metal tongs and retrieved a huge but flawless ice cube. He set the cube gently into the liquid, which came up to a hair below the brim. While Rhett marveled at his calculation that seemed to have involved no calculation whatsoever, Link slid a titanium straw into the narrow space left by the ice cube and carefully slid the drink towards his patron.

Rhett thanked him and took an eager sip. The sweetness of the red syrup seduced his tongue before he picked up the bright, refreshing citrus. Enveloped in the fruity palette was the smoothest, most aromatic agave he had ever tasted. With an impressed smile he nodded appreciatively.

“Tequila sunrise.”

“Exactly.” Link approved with a wink.

 _A wink_. Rhett quickly looked away, wondering if he had lost the cool composure in his expression. Was he feeling a bit of a head rush? There was no way the alcohol could have affected him so much so quickly. His tall and decently muscular frame could have metabolized five of these fruity drinks without him stumbling on a single word. _It's those damn blue eyes_ , he thought.

“This is very good. You're quite the expert.” Rhett said frankly, hoping that his eager compliment didn't come across as desperate. “Been doing this for a long time?” He added. _That would be the natural follow-up, right?_

“A few years, on and off.” Link paused to return the carton and the bottle to their proper location. “I got a mixology certificate and did some party gigs when I was in film school, to pay expenses. And now I do it by night. Works perfectly with my schedule.” He continued while wiping the bar with a red microfiber towel. In a matter of seconds his workspace was as spotless as before he started making the drink. Rhett felt as if he was watching a magician's sleight of hand.

“Actor by day?” Rhett was eager to confirm his earlier conjecture about the man's good looks.

“Mostly film-making,” the brunet corrected. “I would only do the acting myself if absolutely necessary. I'm kind of on the search for a big and coherent project, but in the mean time I just write, shoot, and edit a little bit of something every day...You know, to not get rusty. I've put together a few short pieces; might even make a festival submission some time...” Link tapped the counter top softly with his long, slender fingers, his bright eyes filled with anxious anticipation.

“You know, you're kind of living my teenage dream.” Rhett said huskily, taking a bigger sip of the fragrant beverage. Maybe the liquor _was_ loosening him up.

“Oh?”

The tall blond nodded. “I would have gone to film school if my family weren't so against it. So I ended up studying engineering.” He took another long sip. The beverage had dwindled by half. “There's a firm called Perkin & Wills downtown. I used to work there.” The past tense brought a sour pang to his chest.

Link must have picked up on the subtle emphasis. His smile dropped slightly and he cocked his head curiously to the side.

Rhett took a deep breath. “I go laid off today.”

“Oh.” Link's smile disappeared and his voice turned soft and sympathetic. “I'm sorry to hear that.” He nodded towards the tequila sunrise. “On the house, of course.”

Rhett chuckled. “Thanks but...I don't wanna short you out. It's okay. I've been getting no assignments at work for quite a while. Can't say I didn't see it coming.”

Link stared at him with those puppy dog eyes for a few silent seconds. His long fingers toyed with a small stud nestled just within the shell of his left ear. The jewel was a smooth half sphere of semi-transparent white stone set in a simple gold bezel. It had an interesting pale blue glow at the center. Rhett thought it was a flattering accessory, but he also caught himself pondering the implication that it was placed on the left.

“Well, you know what they say, Rhett?” The bartender's gently set his fiddling hand on the counter. Something metallic made a soft clink against the counter.

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

Link held a half-subdued smirk at the corer of his mouth, evidently proud of his impression of Vivien Leigh. He leaned forward onto his elbows and tucked his laced fingers under his chin.

Rhett smiled at the coy gesture. He cautioned himself that it was just a bartender's job to flirt with the customers a little—what would a brilliant artist like _that_ do with a boring engineer down on his luck anyway? But his attention was seized by the object that had jangled against the counter. Around Link's left wrist was fastened an interesting bracelet. Several chocolate-colored leather strips were neatly braided to form a smooth cord, onto which strung several intricate metal beads, some gold, others silver. Each bear bore a different design. The center trinket appeared to be a smooth ring looped onto the leather, from which dangled a silver charm. A film reel.

“Is that one of those bracelets where each of the beads means something different?”

“Why, yes!” Link chirped with the most endearing southern intonation.

“May I?” Rhett pointed to the accessory.

Instead of taking the bracelet off and handing it over, Link smirked and extended his hand towards Rhett as if he were a Victorian lady about to receive a suitor's kiss on the back of his hand. Rhett felt the urge to oblige, to take those fingers into his hand and caress the tanned skin with his lips. But he disciplined himself and only lightly pinched the film reel charm to examine. While doing so, his index finger brushed against Link's skin. It was a minuscule point of contact, but nonetheless felt like touching a stripped wire with wet fingers. Rhett felt excitement shiver through his body. He wondered what his expression looked like in that moment and desperately hoped that it didn't betray his mind too much. In the mean time, he thought he heard Link draw an audible deep breath.

“Very fitting center piece. I'm guessing it's also your favorite?” Without moving his finger away from the back of Link's hand, Rhett commented in a tone more intimate than earlier. “And...coffee,” his index finger left the dainty film reel and landed directly below a small silver cup resting on a saucer and strung onto the leather via a hollowed center. He decided to just enjoy the touch for now. “A horse shoe and a compass...” Rhett's finger glided to rest below two other charms as he commented, “are you also an equestrian?” He inquired, becoming amazed by the multi-talented beauty in front of him.

Link chuckled softly. “Nah, I'm not. The compass is there because I love the outdoors—camping, hiking, mountain biking, off-roading...I get away from the city whenever I can. Recharge the soul.”

“Recharge the soul.” Rhett turned the words around in his mind, feeling them fitting into his introverted nature like puzzle pieces. “Is that a line from one of your festival pieces?” Rhett leaned closer. His eyebrows became more animated and his voice became softer and more southern.

“Not yet,” the basking brunet gave a coy shrug, “but I just might.”

“And the horse shoe?”

“Oh, right. I love miniature horses, I mean...I guess a horse shoe isn't an exact representation but I love the simplicity. It's also a good luck charm.”

“Mmm.” Rhett hummed, smiling brightly as his finger traveled to another charm that immediately absorbed his attention. It had two circle-and-arrow symbols, those initially conceived to represent Mars but gradually took on the meaning of the male gender, threaded onto the same ring.

“And does it bring you a lot of good luck?” Rhett looked up from his discovery and gave the brunet a bold and meaningful look. He had surrendered to the urge to flirt back. If he were to do something reckless, it would be most justifiable on a night like this, where the world outside of the dimly lit bar made him feel a little jaded and forsaken, but the beautiful stranger inside this daydream of a place made him feel just the opposite.

Link leaned in so close that Rhett could catch a hint of sweet mint from his delicate lips.

“I think I'm looking at some right now.”

Before his mind completely caught up, Rhett's fingers were gripped firmly by the hand they were caressing. He was pulled out of his seat, led around the bar and through a narrow exit hidden beside the kitchen. His eyes struggled to adjusted to the sudden darkness in the alley outside, and worked even harder when they turned into what seemed to be a large concave in the wall.

“This is a loading bay we share with the other two restaurants,” Link explained breathlessly, already crowding Rhett against the wall with his warm body, “nobody's gonna be here until the delivery trucks come in at 5am.” His lips had barely stopped moving before they crushed into Rhett's.

The tall blond returned the kiss fiercely. He didn't care that he could barely see anything—his hands and lips did a far better job of exploration. Soon Link's T-shirt was hurriedly pulled up and lifted over his head, where it stayed wrapping tautly over his wide shoulders. All of Rhett's shirt buttons were quickly undone, and a pair of smaller, smoother hands slid inside his undershirt. He couldn't see but his skin registered every touch—slowly sliding up his ribcage, gently toying with his chest and gliding and digging into his back muscles. Soon the deft fingers busied at his zipper and started stroking his excitement. Every expertly touch translated into a husky moan. Rhett was lost in the sensation of heat coursing through his body. It was so dark and so incredible that it must have been a dream, but his head was rolling back and scraping against the cement wall. He could barely believe how his body was writhing and how his voice was echoing in the hollow cement cave. He had never done anything so wild.

Link's lips moved onto his neck. Rhett felt hot kisses framed by a hint of coarse stubble, wet teases from a skillful tongue, and the slightest graze from sharp teeth. He was rapidly losing control but struggled to return the favor. He took his hands, currently holding on for dear life around Link's bare waist, and pushed his fingertips inside the slim bartender's waistband. He pulled the layers forward and down, and smiled triumphantly at how his prize sprang up and wiggled against Link's flat stomach. He worked his hands around the narrow hips and tugged the jeans and underwear further down until they bound Link's thighs below the soft swell of his bottom. Link whimpered in surprise and widened his stance instinctively. Rhett took the opportunity to rake and knead the soft flesh and tease out high-pitched moans before finally gripping his erect trophy. He would soon find out that Link was a louder and much more vocal lover than himself. The stubbly cheek scraped against his clavicle and the feline lips yelped into the hollow of his neck, mumbling some of the filthiest things Rhett has ever heard. None of their hands missed a single beat until the illicit lovers shivered with the force of their release. Link slumped forward onto Rhett's prominent chest—almost eagerly, Rhett thought—disregarding the mess on his bare stomach and on Rhett's undershirt.

The slack arms wrapped around Rhett's waist sent a rush of warmth all over his body. For some reason, it was a sensation almost as satisfying as the release. The impressive shoulders within his embrace turned soft and pliant from their tryst. Rhett marveled at how perfectly their bodies fitted together. But just as the LA summer night was cooling down and a gentle breeze licked at the sheen of sweat on his spent body, another thought crept into his mind. This night was bound to end. What of tomorrow, when he would no longer have a purpose or destination at sunrise, or a warm lover that fitted perfectly into his arms? Greedily, he breathed in the sweet mint on Link's lips and a faint verdant perfume from his skin, and tightened his arms.

“Hey,” Link's voice took on a soft rasp from loudly voicing his passion just now, “Mr. Former Engineer?” He drew languidly on Rhett's chest with his fingertips.

Rhett's only reply was a soft kiss on Link's messily swept hair.

“You still wanna live that teenage dream?”

 


End file.
